


Show

by eclecticxdetour, jessonthecoast



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Michael, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Present Tense, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclecticxdetour/pseuds/eclecticxdetour, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessonthecoast/pseuds/jessonthecoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael gives Ryan a show. Ryan isn't keen on staying in the audience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate universe in the sense that neither of them are married to their wives nor have children.
> 
> This fic was greatly inspired by [THIS NSFW GIF](http://33.media.tumblr.com/0bd8c89c172761131afb2d3210cb86ba/tumblr_mjeogiHQCs1rum97po2_400.gif)

**Title:** Show  
**Pairing** : Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones  
**Word Count** : 3275  
**Rating** : 18+  
**Warnings** : Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, anal fingering, anal sex, barebacking, bottom!Michael, mentioned bondage (rope play and blindfolds)  
**Spoilers** : None  
**Disclaimer** : We don't own or know any of these people. This is created from our imaginations and we thought we'd share.  
**Summary** : Michael gives Ryan a show. Ryan isn't keen on staying in the audience.  
**A/N:** This was greatly inspired by [THIS NSFW GIF](http://33.media.tumblr.com/0bd8c89c172761131afb2d3210cb86ba/tumblr_mjeogiHQCs1rum97po2_400.gif).

Ryan stills in the doorway as Michael slumps into the armchair by the window. Michael's fingers twitch on the armrests, gaze flitting from Michael's DS on the side table, to him, and then back to Michael's handheld. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorjamb. Michael _squirms_.

“ _What_ , Haywood?” asks Michael, stretching his arms over his head and curling his fingers over the back of the armchair. Ryan glances down at where his shirt has ridden up, and he drops one hand to the pale strip of his belly. Staying silent, Ryan tips his head, eyebrow raising. Narrowing his eyes, he pushes his shirt up with one hand, shoving at the waistband of his jeans with the other. It never takes long for him to get hard with Ryan looking at him like this. Like Ryan would love nothing more than to take him apart.

He prods the few bruises lining the groove of his hip, Ryan humming appreciatively on the other side of their bedroom. Fingers gentling, he recalls how Ryan had spent minutes kissing his hips. Sucking and nipping at his skin until Ryan had left his marks before swallowing his cock to the root. Michael moans, tracing the chain of hickeys with one hand and rubbing his erection through his jeans with the other.

Ryan's come to expect Michael's non-stop mouth during sex, but across the room, Michael's own hands his only stimulation, Michael's damned near _silent_. Michael holds his gaze as Michael touches himself, little hums and gasps all Michael's offering. Michael knows he gets off on how vocal Michael tends to be. Likes the way Michael's filthy mouth fills the silence around their groans and moans. Now, though? Now Michael's taken the challenge.

Long, thick fingers trace the length of his cock, heel of his hand pressing against the shaft through his now too tight jeans. Biting his lip, Michael unbuttons and unzips his pants. Ryan inhales sharply, and he smiles inwardly. One hand slides slowly beneath his boxers, wrapping around his length, stimulation making him sigh with relief.

Ryan takes off his hoodie as he heads for their bed. He crosses an ankle over his knee when he sits, fingers absently curling there as he watches Michael tease under his jeans.

“Is this what you wanted from me?” asks Michael, more breathlessly than he had intended. Teasing strokes and Ryan's focused gaze affecting him more than he'd thought.

Shrugging, Ryan cocks a brow. “Honestly, I figured you would at least have been shirtless by now, but I am by no means complaining about this detour.”

“'Want me to take it off?” His stomach flutters under his fingertips. Touch feather-light, slowly moving up his abdomen, shirt bunching with the glide.

“If it's not too much trouble...” says Ryan. Michael flicks a smile up at him, and he watches Michael curl his fingers around the hem of his Henley, pulling it up and over his head. A blush covers Michael's pale skin, freckles more pronounced, and he wants nothing more than to connect the spots with his tongue. Wants to run his hands over smooth, taut skin and suck love bites into all that perfect flesh.

Michael circles his nipples, tweaking them and hissing at the feeling before gliding his hands down his body and back into his pants. He stares at Ryan as he lifts his hips, pulling his boxers and jeans below his ass, cock slapping against his stomach. He thumbs the precome off his belly and spreads it over the tip of his dick, watching Ryan grab himself through his jeans.

Ryan slides his tongue over his lower lip, Michael's nipples hard and peaked, begging to be kissed and licked. Michael's eyes drop to the cup of his hand over his erection, lips parted, _hoping_ he'll bare his cock. He doesn't. Can and will hold off until Michael breaks and begs to see him touch himself.

Michael kicks away his clothes, naked aside from the glasses sliding down his nose. He palms his balls and jerks his dick, hot in the loose curl of his fingers. He can't come until Ryan says he can. _Won't_ come until Ryan's got his fucking pants off at least, anyway. Ryan's hips roll in tiny hitches, grinding up into that broad, calloused palm.

“M'sure you'd feel better if you got your dick out, Ry,” breathes Michael, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip before he bites it. He wants to see Ryan touch his prick, skilled hands working it over so he can match Ryan's movements and pretend that Ryan's the one touching him.

“All you had to do was ask,” says Ryan with a crooked grin. He stands and strips, kicking the pool of his clothes away and lying on his side in front of Michael. He grabs hold of his erection and tugs a few times before swiping his thumb over the crown, coating it in precome and sliding it all the way down his thick length. Michael's eyes are glued to him, watching the way he slicks his cock and doing the same to his own.

Michael tightens his fist around his dick, slippery with preejaculate. He rubs his other hand over his thigh, downy hairs there tickling his palm. Ryan lifts an eyebrow at his unoccupied hand, and his breathing catches in his throat, prick jerking in his fist.

“Pinch your nipples for me, Michael,” says Ryan, voice low and steady despite his jerking strokes. “Like that; very good.” He looses a long groan, and Michael swears, harsh 'fuck!' trailing off into a sharp gasp as Michael squeezes his left pec, nipple caught between Michael's middle and fore fingers. Michael chews on his bottom lip, teeth grinding over the swollen flesh as Michael takes in every inch of him. He smirks and tips half onto his back, balancing on his left arm and fucking the tight circle of his fingers.

Michael's hand travels to his other nipple, rolling the little nub between his fingers. Hand roaming between his pecs, he gropes and squeezes them. He licks the tip of one finger and traces around his nipple, watching it shine and tighten up even more. Doing the same to the other, he waits for Ryan's next command.

“Finger yourself for me, Michael,” whispers Ryan, order ending with a deep groan.

Fuck, if it doesn't go straight to Michael's dick. Closing his lips around two fingers, he wetly sucks his digits. He shuts his eyes, pretending for a second that it's Ryan between his lips. Thick cock shoved into his mouth, leaking precome and heavy on his tongue. He moans lewdly, and Ryan's breathing hitches.

“I swear your mouth is just made to have something in it,” says Ryan, hips jerking into the ring of his fingers.

“Could be your dick, Ry,” says Michael, jerking his cock at the thought. He slides two fingers through the precome on his stomach, coating them more and trailing his fingers down between his legs to his tightly puckered hole.

He slumps in his seat, hooking a leg over each arm of the chair, spreading himself for Ryan's viewing pleasure. His asshole clenches and relaxes under the slow circle of his fingertips, and Ryan growls across the room.

“I think we both know you have other plans for my dick,” says Ryan, watching with narrowed eyes as Michael's fingers play over Michael's rim. They've both gotten their fingers inside Michael with little more than spit, but it requires going _so_ slowly that he growls and goes for the lube in Michael's bedside table. He sits on the edge of the bed again and tosses Michael the bottle. “Get 'em nice and slick, Michael. Two, because I know you can handle it.”

One finger slides easily into his hole. The stretch of two burns a little, but the pain quickly ebbs as Michael circles his fingers. His lubed digits glide in and out and he arches his fingers. He finds his prostate and skims over it, sparks shooting up his spine, making him groan.

Ryan watches with greedy eyes, stroking the length of his cock and tightening his grip, wishing that it was Michael's body squeezing him and not his own hand. He loves pleasing Michael. Loves hearing the noises he fucks out of Michael and kissing Michael when he moans.

He gets up from the bed and makes his way toward Michael. Hovering above him, Ryan angles Michael's chin up and stares down at him: hair a mess, cheeks as rosy as Michael's plump, wet lips: hard nipples, heaving chest, bruised hips, and a quickening rhythm. “Michael,” he says quietly.

“Hmm?” asks Michael, worrying at his bottom lip.

“You're not going to come yet, are you?”

“'Course not.”

“ _Good_ ,” says Ryan, watching between them as Michael's pace slows. He waits for Michael to push his fingers inside himself, wanting to get the timing right. In, out, in, out, _in_ : “Crook your fingers.”

A moan escapes Michael's lips, and Ryan leans in to kiss him, tongue sliding over Michael's, swallowing the sounds that want to leave. He threads his fingers through Michael's hair, angling Michael's head and deepening the kiss.

Ryan is gonna fuck him right on this goddamn armchair. Ryan's cock's rubbing against the back of Michael's thigh, fingers tangled in his curls as Ryan moves his head, Ryan's scruff grazing his chin and cheeks. His wrist is cramping, but Ryan hasn't told him to stop, and he teases his prostate again, whining into Ryan's mouth.

“Driving you wild, isn't it?” asks Ryan, pulling back and kissing the corner of Michael's mouth, edging even closer, Michael's arm caught between them. Michael nods, lips curled between his teeth, muffling another whimper. “Do you think I should fuck you now, Michael? Hmm? Get your legs over my shoulders and fuck you 'till you come?”

“I mean, if you're up for it,” breathes Michael, weak smirk curling the corner of his lips. Ryan laughs, kissing him once more before turning to grab the lube, squirting some into his palm and then tossing the bottle. He watches Ryan spread slick over his fat length, twisting his fist at the head. He shivers when Ryan reaches down to where he's splitting himself with two fingers, hole wet and puffy. Ryan stops him when he starts to ease his fingers out, quietly ordering him to add a third. He stops moving his hand on his cock and focuses on stretching himself, breathing heavily as the burn eventually fades into pleasure.

“ _Fuck_ , Ry, maybe I'll keep doing this,” says Michael, letting go of his cock and tucking his arm behind his head, grinding into the thrust of his fingers in his ass. He brushes over his prostate, cock slick and twitching against his belly. Ryan hums and pushes at the undersides of his knees, spreading his legs and exposing every inch of him. The insides of his thighs are flushed, feet cramping where they dangle freely.

“ _Could_ you get yourself off from this? Fucking your little asshole with your fingers while I watch?” asks Ryan, really doesn't want to find out right _now_ , but the thought is intriguing. “Do you really _want_ to make yourself come when I'm _right here,_ ready and willing?”

“I'm sure we could both find out right now—“ Grazing over his prostate again, Michael leans back further and bites his lip, holding back a moan.

“Like hell you are,” growls Ryan, grabbing Michael's wrist and finally easing Michael's fingers out of himself. Yanking Michael closer to him, he lines up with Michael's hole and presses inside until he's settled against the backs of Michael's thighs.

“Thought you wanted a show, Ry,” says Michael. His voice wavers slightly, making Ryan smirk at him. He pulls Ryan close, crashing their lips together as Ryan sets a steady rhythm.

“Never said it wasn't an _interactive_ show,” says Ryan, leaning over Michael and grunting into his neck. Michael's tight and hot around him, smooth, firm thighs hooking over his shoulders as he folds Michael in half, thrusts slow and deep. Michael hisses, head tipping against the back of the armchair, Adam's apple bobbing under Michael's harsh swallows. “I'll pull out and leave you to your own devices if you'd prefer...”

Michael growls and grabs Ryan's ass, fingertips digging into Ryan's cheeks, keeping Ryan pinned between his legs. “Don't you fucking dare, Haywood.” Ryan smirks down at him, and he smacks his heel in between Ryan's shoulder blades. “ _Harder_ , Ryan, _fuck_ ,” he gasps, Ryan winking down at him and pushing his thighs back toward his chest. “Fuck fuck _fuck_.”

“Hard enough, Michael?” asks Ryan, chuckling darkly, Michael tossing his head back and whimpering, toes curling against his back.

“Mm, just fuck me, Haywood,” grunts Michael. Ryan slides out slowly, pulling almost all the way out. He feels the burn of Ryan's fat cockhead and then practically _nothing_. “No, don't, Ry—” The last syllable's cut off as Ryan jerks forward, heels digging into Ryan's back, fingernails scraping along Ryan's forearm. He groans, pain fading quickly as Ryan slowly inches in deeper. “ _Fuck_.”

Ryan drags Michael's legs down around his waist and wraps his arms underneath Michael's shoulders. He doesn't have enough leverage to fuck Michael as hard as Michael's demanding. Lifts Michael from the armchair and hauls him over to their bed. Michael gasps as they settle. He hooks Michael's legs back over his shoulders, hips and thighs smacking into Michael's ass and legs with his deep thrusts.

“That's what I'm talking about, Rye-bread, _holy shit_.” Michael moans, swallowing down the rest of his whines and whimpers, Ryan's smirk indicating he's doing a poor job of it. He reaches up and folds his hands around Ryan's neck, tugging Ryan down and catching Ryan's mouth in a messy kiss.

Tongues slide feverishly, teeth clicking together. Their fingers dig into sweat-slicked flesh, tugging closer, nails scraping and leaving marks they'll find in the morning. Pants and the slap of skin on skin the only sounds that echo in their bedroom.

Michael's toes curl and uncurl as Ryan grinds into his prostate, that spot inside getting relentless stimulation as Ryan fucks into him. The position's causing Ryan's stomach to rub against his dick and there's too much friction. Reaching for his dick, he squeezes his length, trying to stop himself from coming too soon. Not until Ryan says so.

Ryan grabs his wrists, and Michael is helpless to stop him, too caught up in the thick length of Ryan stretching him open. There are teeth at his neck and clavicle, then along his jaw and down over his shoulder, Ryan's scruff grating over his skin. His wrists get that sweat-itchy feeling of too much pressure, but he doesn't shake off Ryan's hold. Revels in the slide of Ryan's cock in his ass and Ryan's stomach over his leaking length.

“I figured you'd be begging me to let you come by now, Michael,” whispers Ryan, tugging at Michael's earlobe with his teeth. He drags his tongue along the cusp, Michael's shoulder inching up toward his ear, unsure whether to squirm away from the sensation. “I have yet to hear _one_ 'touch my dick, motherfucker,' and I'm a little proud of you.”

“Can't always get what we want, Haywood,” says Michael shakily, smiling. He shakes off Ryan's hold and knots his fingers in Ryan's hair, pulling Ryan to him and licking into Ryan's mouth, biting harshly at Ryan's lower lip. Ryan hisses into his mouth, pressing fully inside him and grinding against his prostate. “ _Motherfu—_ ”

“You know, maybe I should let you jerk yourself off,” growls Ryan, lips moving against Michael's and then trailing along Michael's jaw. “Make a mess of yourself while I watch.” Licks the sweat on Michael's neck and kisses his pale, love-bitten skin. “Since you wanna come so badly an' all.”

“What and you _don't_?” asks Michael, narrowing his eyes and clenching deliberately around Ryan's dick. Ryan lets out a stuttered moan, rhythm going momentarily erratic until Ryan catches his wrists again, firmly pressing them against the mattress and steadying his thrusts.

“Unlike you, I don't let my potential orgasm control me,” says Ryan, pointedly glancing between them where Michael's rutting against his gut. “Not when I've gotta make sure that _you're_ taken care of first.”

“Aw, Ry, you _do_ care,” says Michael blandly, though Ryan cocks a brow and loosens the grip on his right wrist, stilling deep inside him and guiding their hands between their bodies.

“'Course I care,” says Ryan, fingers lacing with Michael's and curling around Michael's dick, starting a steady rhythm.

“You should though, one of these times,” says Michael, swallowing roughly and watching the head of his cock disappear and reappear in their hands. “Fuck me how you want. Come first.” He squeezes down on Ryan's cock again.

“ _Michael_ ,” breathes Ryan, thrusts getting a little out of tempo. Michael's so hot and tight around his cock, pressure building at the base of his spine. He wills himself to stay steady, but it's not easy with Michael clamping around him so tightly.

“Wanna see you lose it for a change, Ry,” says Michael, air punching out of him as Ryan's thrusts get more erratic. He tangles his fingers in Ryan's hair, pulling Ryan to him and smashing their lips together. Teeth and tongue and breathy moans.

“Next time, Michael. For now, let's see about you, huh?” says Ryan, licking Michael's saliva off of his own bottom lip. Michael greedily watches the slide of his tongue, brows slowly lowering from raised to furrowed as he quickens their strokes along Michael's cock. “Dying to come, aren't you, Michael? Jesus, the sounds you're making...” He groans, Michael's mouth snapping shut, Michael tightening rhythmically around his prick.

He keeps his moans in, muffled hums doing little to dissuade Ryan from how goddamn close he is. He pulls on Ryan's hair, and Ryan growls, hips snapping harder into him, fists so tight around his cock. “Ry. _Ryan_!”

“Come on. Come _on_ ,” urges Ryan, thrusting harder and stroking faster, toes clenching so hard they pop, chain of swears bursting from Michael's mouth as Michael shouts and comes, jizz streaking up across Michael's chest and abdomen. “That's it, Michael. Look at you...”

Michael shudders and pulls Ryan's hand away from his dick, folding their fingers together and doing his best to rock into the roll of Ryan's hips. “Don't fuckin' stop,” he whines before Ryan can pull out. One hand holding Ryan's, he reaches up with the other to pinch Ryan's nipples, thumbing them as Ryan jerkily fucks into him. He breathes Ryan's name, sharply tweaking a peak as he clenches around Ryan. “Come for me, Ryan.”

Biting his lip, Ryan moans Michael's name, hands tightly gripping Michael as he comes. Hips stuttering to a stop, he leans down to press his lips against Michael's. Tongues tasting each other, wet lips gliding together, teeth gently grazing skin.

“You know,” whispers Ryan, tiny smile curving his lips. “The days to follow after I fuck you how _I_ want aren't gonna be very fun for you...”

A grin slowly spreads across Michael's face. “Oh yeah? Sounds a lot like a challenge to me.”

“You've got a nice long talk about proper rope play in your future,” says Ryan, carefully easing out. The clamp of Michael's thighs around Michael's twitching cock is _very_ promising.

“A little rope burn never hurt anyone too badly, right?” asks Michael, the idea piquing his interest. He leans up on his elbows, eyes wickedly bright. “What about blindfolds?”

“That's the spirit,” says Ryan, leaning over Michael and kissing Michael's smirking mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Find [me](http://eclecticxdetour.tumblr.com/) and [Jess](http://jasonptodd.co.vu/) on tumblr!


End file.
